But then I realized I was dealing with one of the most perceptive, most eagle-eyed people God ever created; my wife Joan. And so of course… she saw the wince as soon as it happened.

And in that same moment, I came face-to-face with a persistent, uncomfortable truth about myself.

Namely that I don’t share well. At all.

Hers was a perfectly reasonable request. I was sitting there at the table with Joan, eating and enjoying a luscious, ripe apple.

She then calmly reached out her hand and said, “Let me have a bite.”

And I winced.

I winced because my first gut response to my wife’s request was, “NO! I don’t want to give you a bite of my apple! I have every one of these bites mapped out in my mind and I intend to enjoy every single one of them!”

What a schmoe! I mean, who doesn’t give their spouse – or even an unrelated total stranger for that matter – a small morsel of food if they ask for it?

Which compels me to confess: sharing has been a problem for me for a long time… especially when it comes to sharing food. Sometimes I think I must sound like those seagulls in the movie Finding Nemo continually screaming, “MINE! MINE! MINE!”

And when my sweet wife asks me why I am so singularly bad at this simple human practice, my stock answer is, “Because I was the oldest of five kids! I had to fight tooth and nail for every mouthful at the family dinner table. It was HELL, I tell you!”

But that’s not completely true. Yes, I was the oldest of five kids growing up. Yes, times were tight now and then. But no, none of us were ever as deprived as I sometimes like to portray.

My stinginess bothers me. And yet, it persists.

It also causes me to wonder: is sharing anything like athletic ability… that is, something you’re either born with or not?

Maybe my problem is that I attach too much importance to the item in question. Maybe – in my feverish and slightly out-of-kilter mind – I imagine that this apple, or this piece of key lime pie, or this book, or this Coca-Cola, or this $20 bill, is the key to my ultimate well being in the world and that letting go of even a small portion of it will do irreparable harm to my soul.

Whatever the case, I am sure my behavior in the matter of sharing is the exact opposite of Christ-like. Because when Jesus sat down and told the people there on the side of the hill, “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear?’ … indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things…”(Matt. 6:31-32, NRSV), I’m pretty sure he was talking to me, too.

Actually, he is even a little more direct in Luke’s gospel: “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, and whoever has food must do likewise.”(Luke 3:11, NRSV).

Busted!

I really don’t have a good answer for the origins of this personality flaw of mine, but maybe “where it came from” isn’t really the important issue here.

Maybe I just need to ask for your prayerful intervention as I simultaneously implore the Holy Spirit to do a little transformational work on me from the inside.

But I am curious…

Do you share well?

Have you always been a good “share-er”, or did you learn it later in life?

As I believe I have mentioned in this space before, this is mainly because my wife is an awesome cook. I love to eat the things she so lovingly and creatively prepares. To give you a little teaser, here is a photo of last night’s delectable entrée; Spinach stuffed chicken breast:

Thanks to our somewhat sheltered culinary existence, I do not have a favorite place or a favorite dish at my favorite place. Our rare forays out are almost always adventures of discovery.

And because I tend to be a very suggestible kind of guy, my general practice is to order the thing on the menu that is pictured there in a lovely, full-color close-up photo… with the juices dripping off, a pat of butter slowly melting, and flavor whisps wafting off the page.

I just point to it and tell the server, “I’ll have one of THOSE, please!”

And if you have ever ordered this way, you know what happens next. After an unbearably long waiting period, the server returns, places that pure, beatific item in front of you with a big smile with the word, “Enjoy!” and then disappears in a puff of smoke.

Then you look down at your plate… and you are instantly crushed and heartbroken. Because the thing sitting there looks NOTHING like the picture from the menu.

It’s not the same SIZE!

It’s not the same SHAPE!

It’s not the same COLOR!

The lighting is all wrong!

The butter is not melting down the side in anything nearly resembling the hypnotic way it was in the picture.

Your disappointment is palpable.

And yet you have not yet even taken Bite #1.

But here is the magical thing that almost always happens next… at least for me. I somehow dry my bitter tears, pick up my knife and fork, vowing to make the best of a bad situation, and TAKE A BITE!

And then in at least 95 percent of the cases I discover… IT’S REALLY GOOD! Despite my initial disappointment.

And as I savor that first bite I say to myself, “You know… it’s not perfect, but I love it!”

And just as I uttered that phrase, I realized I said exactly the same thing less than a week ago… on the Fourth of July. As Joan and I took the day off to recognize and celebrate the designated birthday of our country I paused, placed my hand over my heart, looked at a flag, and said, “This country is certainly not perfect, but I love it!”

Then I remembered I had recently said the same thing about the United Methodist Church… where I have been ordained and continue to serve: “It’s sure not perfect, but I love it!”

In all three cases, it was good to be reminded that LOVE does not depend on the PERFECTION of the object of your love.

So… do I see great problems today in our country and worry about the direction it is headed? Or am I worried about the denomination I serve and the way it is currently choosing to carry out its mission? Am I deeply concerned with the future of both?

Yes, yes, and yes.

But do I also have an abiding confidence in the soundness of the foundation on which each of these stands? Do I believe they are still the best examples available of what it means to be a nation and what it means to be a church? And do I dearly love each of them despite their massive flaws and imperfections?

Again… yes, yes, and yes.

I also realize that loving – my country, my church, or another person – does not mean giving up the expectation that they will keep working to become a better example of their ilk.

And so if I – flawed, defective mortal that I am – have the capacity to love the imperfect, then surely the flawless, omnipotent One who created me must have that same capacity times INFINITY!

Which is probably why Psalm 86:15 says, “But you, O Lord, are a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast loveand faithfulness,”or why John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life,”or why Romans 8:38-39 says, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Which is probably also why I should also take Joan at her word when she says she loves ME… warts and all!

Like this:

If your household is anything like mine, this is a question that crops up on a fairly regular basis… usually an hour or two prior to the designated hour of the evening meal.

And if you are the one on the receiving end of this question, you have also discovered that there is a serious limit to the number of times you can get away with playing the, “Oh, I don’t know… whatever” card.

You have learned – perhaps the hard way – that if you are not going to do the work of PREPARING the food, you should at least be able to devote a couple moments of brainpower to narrowing down the options.

And yet… as much of a food fan as I am, I sometimes find this to be a surprisingly hard question to answer.

First of all, the question usually comes when I am not even thinking about food.

I find I have to stop and do about a minute and a half of mulling.

This mulling usually involves a very specialized kind of “belly discernment” exercise wherein I try to transform the abstract notion of eating into something specific and actionable.

For example: “Something delicious and healthy, please” is NOT a good response.

“How about some shrimp skewers with grilled vegetables?” is much more helpful.

A good response to this question also calls for a good memory. You should try to avoid responding by suggesting something you just ate three days ago… even if you really, really liked it.

As a student of these matters I can assure you that the more care one takes in the answering of this critical question, the better the outcome – for all parties.

All of which leads to this further bit of pondering: what would it like if we all put a similar level of thoughtful discernment energy into answering that same question in relationship to our LIVES?

E.g. – What are you hungry for… in the grand scheme of things?

Of course one of the most classic answers to that question was provided by psychologist Abraham Maslow in his 1954 book, Motivation and Personality. In his famous pyramid, Maslow laid out the “hierarchy of human needs,” starting with basic physical needs at the lowest level, moving up to the need for safety, then to the need for love (or belonging), esteem, and ending with self-actualization or transcendence at the top. Another way to say the word “transcendence,” of course, is GOD.

I have not read Maslow’s book, but as I understand his thesis, a person cannot move to the next level on the hierarchy until he or she has satisfied the needs of the last level. For example, you cannot move on to satisfying your need for safety until you have first satisfied your basic need for food, air, and water.

This concept makes some sense. But it leads us to the conclusion that the need for God – standing as God does at the very top of the pyramid – is something of a luxury; i.e., a need that can only be addressed once all of the other “ducks” of your life are in a row.

The problem I find with Maslow’s concept is that it is completely at odds with the teaching of the scriptures and our Christian tradition. According to those sources, the hunger for God resides at the most basic level of the human experience.

Augustine – the first bishop of the Christian church – wrote about this hunger in his Confessions when he said: “Our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.”

In his letter to the fledgling Christian community in Rome, Paul pointed to that same primal yearning with these words; “For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God.” (Romans 8:19, NRSV).

And as you might expect, Jesus had the best version of the upside-down Maslow pyramid in this passage from Matthew’s gospel: “But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (Matthew 6:33, NRSV).

And so in a very real sense, it might be easier to answer the question, “What am I hungry for in my life?” than it is to answer the question, “What do I want for dinner?